100 Lighter Days

Ten Minutes of Math

Today's guest post is from a young mom named Lisa Ruiter, who happens to be in my local Writer's Circle. "Ten Minutes of Math" models an important moment. When she let go of "should-ing" on herself, her mind was free to pay attention to a young "teacher" who inspired her. She walked just a little lighter that day, and she shared it with our writing group.

by Lisa Ruiter

Each Tuesday and Thursday morning, I volunteer in the office at my daughter’s school.  Yesterday, a teacher associate for the 4th grade room was gone, so the principal asked me to fill in by helping students with math for just 10 minutes.  Fearing trouble, I hoped I could swing 10 minutes. 

The teacher smiled at me as I entered the room, handed me the answer book, and reassured me, “You just need to oversee five 4th graders while they figure out their math problems.” 

Moments after sitting at the small oblong table with the students, a boy asked me,” How do I figure M in question 10?”  It was written something like 3 x M = 180 + ____.  All the answer book gave me was the number 90, and I didn’t know how M could be 90. 

I couldn’t remember how to calculate problems with letters—besides, I never liked math in school. I asked the student as many questions as I could in hopes he would figure out M on his own. Exhausted, I finally confessed, “I have no idea how to do the problem but the answer is 90!” 

The answer was not good enough for this 4th grader.  “But, I still don’t know how to figure out what M is,” the boy replied.  Having great pity on me, the student sitting next to him taught the boy how to calculate M.  When I was a kid, all I cared about was getting the right answer! I guess things have changed. The 10 minutes were finally up, so I happily returned to the school office where I found out I gave the answer to one of the brightest boys in school.  I guess I don’t have to worry about volunteering in the classroom again!

Left of Snow

 
Photo courtesy of Mister Wind-up Bird and Flickr's Creative Commons

Left of Snow

 

by Peter Andringa

 

What is left of snow?

You asked it knowing--

Nothing.

 

Why was there snow?

You asked it knowing--

I couldn't stop it, snowing.

****** 

Musings on “Left of Snow”

by Deborah Jansen

We think we know all about snow. After all, we shovel it, drive through it, and listen to school cancellations when we get too much of it.

Scientifically and rationally, we remind ourselves that snow starts as moisture droplets that cling and freeze together randomly. Melting and refreezing takes place, which produces intricate, crystalline shapes that finally reach the ground as snow.

But if we stop rehearsing all that we think we know rationally, we finally have room for mystery.

When I read my Uncle Peter’s “Left of Snow,” it hushes me and leaves me open to the sacred. It’s an invitation to be present in simple, daily beauty that’s laced with grace. What is it that keeps us gazing at a sparkling prairie under a winter moon? What is it about mystery that keeps us coming back for more?

Writing Prompts. . .

1.    When was an important first time you remember gazing with childlike wonder at the snow? Did it involve looking out the window, running in it, sledding, building a snowman, making snow angels? Tell me that story. Ten minutes. Go.

2.    When was an important first time you remember snow stopping you from doing something you had planned? Did it involve school closing, getting stuck in the snow, a sledding accident, being homebound for days at a time? Tell me that story. Ten minutes. Go.